Piano | Lillian Kwok
Lillian Kwok is originally from Philadelphia, and now lives in Honolulu. She has a chapbook published by Awst Press. Her work has been published in the Waxwing, the Cortland Review, Paper Darts and other journals. She holds an MFA in writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts.
PAVANE POUR UNE INFANTE DEFUNTE
It’s winter and we’re sitting together by the half-frozen river waiting for a hand to float by. Somewhere, I tell you, there’s a woman with no hands sitting in front of a black piano. She cries so much that all her eyelashes turn white and fall out into the cold water. And when we see the hand, we’re going to pluck it up out of the river. I’ll put three hands over my mouth and not tell you that I love you.